Scars
by TC-Jisei
Summary: Scars is the life story of Jisei, a character I created a few years ago for a use as a fursona considering she is anthromorphic. Yet, through a series of rather accidental incidents, Jisei has become a character seperate from myself with a world and a lif
1. Chapter 1: Jisei's Perspective

I could barely feel the cold breeze that flickered in through small cracks and crevasses in the walls of my confinement, filling the room with painfully chilled air that supplied little relief to my aching lungs. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I sat, huddled into a tight ball, my small limbs convulsing madly in response to such horrid conditions- the chilling winter night air, the thick dust, the darkness and silence of the room I had been given, and the omnipotent stench of the dried blood caked to wounds upon my back. Hunger gnawed away at my very innards, which tossed about, grumbling and moaning, pleading even for some nutrition. These events were normal, however, and I must admit I had grown quite used to them. Of course, that didn't change the fact that I was greatly bothered by it all. What had I ever done to deserve such a fate? Had I disgraced my parents in some way before I was even old enough to learn their names? How did I even end up here? Those very questions raced back and forth in my mind so fast that I could barely grasp them, knowing all the while that those very thoughts constantly declared war upon the more appropriate and casual thoughts of a 7 year old child. Silently, I released my worst fears, my hatred, and all of the anger that coursed through my veins in a single stream of tears, which stung the wounds upon the back of my hands as I wiped them from my very cheeks. I shuddered softly at the sting and burn of my own tears, but I did not make a noise, for surely that brute would return if I were to so much as whimper in protest.

It was growing late. I could tell this by the seemingly endless torrent of blackness that swarmed around me, no light seeping in through the tiny holes which decorated my ceiling. It was also winter judging by the looks of the thick, gray streaks above me that blocked out even the moon and it's companions. I had to get some sleep, for the following morning was to be another hard day and without my rest, I would surely take another beating. Lying there, curled up tightly in the corner, my back pressed tightly to the wall, I was almost sure I could hear the quick, long strides of my 'father' as he moved from the dinner table to his own bedroom, not even once thinking to stop by and hand me a scrap or two. I was very hungry due to the fact that I hadn't eaten much for a week now. Within moments, however, the very footsteps I had imagined soon seemed to swallow me, sink into my mind and echo, resonating constantly in my head- and then come to a sudden stop. My eyes snapped open and I stilled myself, though the cold air was choking the very energy from my fragile bones. All was silent for what seemed like an eternity to me. Even my thoughts seemed to rest for what could have been the first time in my life. But it wasn't going to last very long. The silence was shattered by the turn of a key in my lock and the stubborn creak of my door as it flopped open, a blast of warm air rushing in and overtook me. I was very grateful for the sudden relief, but I wasn't to be fooled. Though the light that blasted in had nearly blinded my, I knew right away who had come to pay me a visit, for that form was unmistakable. Still in his work clothing, the large floppy feet and the brightly colored polka dots only added to the humor of his painted face and rather obese features, but I was not laughing. Douley was not a man to laugh at once his job was done, and judging by the glazed-over look in his eyes, one would estimate he had done quite well for the tent that day, for his drunken state could have only been the result of a reward from the boss. His flushed face was noticeable even beneath all the white and red make-up, and by the crooked way he was standing, I could tell he was beyond drunk. A rather morbid grin flashed across his face suddenly, revealing to me the rotting, misshapen teeth, which, surprisingly, had scared very few children in the past. They sure scared me, however. Fear coursed through my tiny body as would venom, consuming me slowly as I awaited whatever was destined to be. Surely, he was not here to visit me, for he had never come to see us children as anything but whining sacks of useless flesh. Especially children like me, clad in such garments that one would think me a performer such as himself. The bright yellow gypsy pants hung loosely from my waist, and even though a rope was pulled tautly about their rim, they had a tendency to slip from time to time. The top wasn't much better either, having been one of Douley's own uniforms from back in his slimmer days. One would never think it could belong to such a clown as himself, for it was ripped and torn in a multitude of places and dirt seemed to rest on every thread. Even the bright scarlet polka dots, which lined the yellow cloth, were faded to a dull pinkish tint. My hair, snarled and greasy as it was, was chopped evenly in the back and then tossed into a rather sad excuse for a pony tail, its neon green coloration seeming to draw more attention than the rest of my odd appearance. My feet were bare and so dirty that my very fur had seemed to turn a rusty brown color from my many months of toiling and laboring for the master. Anybody would be disgusted at such a pitiful sight, as Douley was. His eyes, though quite crossed and glazed over, were narrowed, and his eyebrows were pulled back against his pale face in such a way that I knew immediately what it meant. I was used to getting glances such as this, and yet, it seemed so fake. There was no way he could possibly be **pitying** me. And yet, slowly, he staggered closer to me. So close, in fact, that I could see the beads of sweat that raced down his forehead and absorbed quickly into the round ball attached to his nose. His grin widened into a rather pitiful smile, and his voice, though gruff and mighty slurred, seemed to hold so much kindness and pity that I could hardly believe it was the same man who had taunted me so many times before.

"Poor, Poor child…" he sneered, hiccupping softly mid-sentence. "Hungry?" He whispered, leaning over closer to me as if to disguise his words from any intruders. The potency of strong whiskey upon his breath nearly knocked me out as he spoke. From behind his back he pulled out a load of bread, pushing it in my direction and nearly dropping it on the dirty floor. I could do little more than gaze at the clown, frozen in fear and utterly stunned. He had to be messing with my head. There was no way this jerk could be offering me food! It was simply impossible! "Here! Take it!" He whispered, pushing to loaf into my chest and nearly knocking me over. Slowly, I reached for it, and when my fingers grasped it securely in place, I could have cried at the kindness of it all. He drew back, smiling softly as I nibbled away at the loaf, never taking my eyes from him, of course. Suddenly, his eyebrows drew together and a mutated smirk grew from the red paint upon his lips, and a hideous laugh fell from his lips. "You stupid mutt!" He snarled as he turned, screaming for his boss over his shoulder. "Eh, boss! Come here for a momen, would ya?" He laughed heartily, turning back to me. "You poor, naïve fool. I **pity** the poor broad who bore you!" His grin suddenly grew into a thick, even line which shone with an uneasy seriousness. "…Perchance that's why she dumped you here, you pathetic beast!" He roared. I heard the door slam again, and the sudden roar of laughter from Douley was a quick reminder of what was to come. Darkness flooded into the room again, absorbing the two familiar figures who stood so very close. Of course, they were not gone. I knew this by the sudden crack of the whip as it lashed out, it's spiny metal bearings ripping easily through my skin. "You little imp! You thieving, conniving little tramp!" He screeched with a heave as he lashed out at me again. The burning sensation caused my nerves to tingle with numbness and I could do little more than offer a sharp cry in retort. "Shut up!" He screamed easily over my whinings, which seemed to do little but fan the fire that raged within him. I could hear Douley laughing at his side as obscenities flooded into my ears, shame and embarrassment my only companions with each lash of the leather whip to my skin. Eventually, I gave up on my whines and I sat, silently- though trembling greatly- against the wall, my own blood tricking from raw red stripes about my back. The final blow came, and I felt my eyes clamp shut as I collapsed against the floor, an even deeper darkness than I had ever thought possible flooding into my mind.

But the laughing didn't stop. It never stopped. Rather, it grew into multiple chuckles and giggles of the most varying kind. I gazed about the room. The seat next to me was occupied by none other than Tuku, who was laughing along with a few rather odd visitors sitting across the desk, the bells in her hat jingling happily with the bobbing of her head. The visitors consisted of a rather pale brute who obviously needed some mental help, a female who seemed to be his companion, and two young boys who looked to be brothers, engaged in some play fight on the white carpeting. On the other side of the room sat Jamais, who fiddled boredly with a pencil and seemed to be paying little attention to anything that had been happening previously. I sighed softly, my eyes falling upon the paperwork I had piled before me. Gazing down at the page under my paw, I read the words "Delusional, paranoid, irrational beliefs. Presumed diagnosis: Schizophrenia." Another nutcase, committed to my asylum after causing some disturbance, and possibly putting the public population in danger. Thus was my life. In all truth, I had little faith that any of these mental cases would ever get out of this place, save for a few select patients who showed promising signs of recovery. Tapping my pen against the hard wooden table, I turned around and leaned against the desk, rolling my paw through my neon green hair. That nightmare had been such an accurate portrayal of my past, such a completely descriptive, perfect motion picture of my childhood… I must have fallen asleep at the desk. "Well hello there, boss!" joked Tuku upon realizing I had come to. "Have a nice little trip to dream world?" She giggled softly, the question obviously having been quite rhetorical. I shook my head and grunted in response, throwing my head back against the desk. What a nightmare….


	2. Chapter 2: Awnes' Perspective

I sat quietly behind the desk of the institution, my fingers tapping silently out of sheer boredom. Before me were sprawled wrinkled and ripped stacks of paper, all left unfilled and unorganized by my dear friend. Had she expected me to complete such a daunting task for her, she hadn't mentioned it to me. It wasn't as if she'd notice, either. With each passing day she seemed to fall deeper into a world all her own. I was beginning to fear for her sanity, really. Maybe it was just the stress of the job, or the fact that she was isolated in such an empty, silent building day in and day out, but it was apparent that Jisei was loosing her mind. Apparent to everybody, that is, except herself.

With each passing day, she would be caught daydreaming more and more. She began to grow stubborn and impatient, sometimes even going off in front of her least favorite of patients. The worst thing of all, however, was her temper. Each day I came in seemed to hold new arguments. It frightened me, in a way. Sometimes, I found myself wondering what possibly could've brought about such a change. She was nothing like she had been when I first met her. Nothing at all.

That day had been a comfortably warm day, with just a hint of a breeze billowing through the large green trees all around me. I had been walking through the open fields, admiring the scenery and minding my own business as usual. The events which followed seem to have taken place all in a brief second. In fact, sometimes I wonder if I had simply imagined life before the painfully slow days of working in such a facility. One moment, I had been kneeled down near a bed of flowers, reaching out to pick one of the yellow daffodils that was obviously ripe in age. Just before my fingers met the petals, however, I felt a thin hand clamp against my shoulder. I gave a start, fear coursing through my every vein. It wasn't as if I knew anybody here, for I had just moved to these parts. So, who could the owner of this hand be? Nervously, I turned around, only to meet the powder-white face of my future boss. All fear fled from my scrawny frame, and I must admit I nearly fell over laughing at the sight of such a pitiful creature; Neon green hair and near-glowing clothing isn't something you see everyday. Yet, something stifled my laugh. For the first time, I realized that she was shaking something awful. Even beneath all that warm, soft fur, I could feel her skin, chilled to the bone. And the most unique thing of all, her eyes, were staring at me with so much fear and loneliness that I almost felt bad for having mistaken her for some circus freak. Those eyes, one of the most vibrant gold and the other of fragile silver, seemed to haunt and attract me at the same time. For a moment, I could have sworn I was dreaming.

"…You are coming with me…" I was snapped back into the reality of the situation by her shaking, stammering voice. Not very demanding, really. Not even in the least bit creepy. She sounded more like some unsure child than a kidnapper. Yet, something about the words she said had sent a chill down my spine. 'You are coming with me'. It resounded over and over in my head, mixing and drowning out every other sound that may have flooded the park on that faithful day. For a moment, I could just stare, watching her as she frantically searched for some unseen being, not even bothering to shield her sensitive eyes from the sun as her gaze staggered to trace the very horizon. And then, as if expecting her words to have been enough, she turned around and began to walk, her shuffling gait seeming to stiffen as her strides grew faster and longer by the second. Still, I did not follow.

"Oh, you're going to love it…" she had paused, finally realizing that I had not come. Reluctantly, she raced back towards where I stood, still staring off into the distance in some absurd shock. "…Please! I beg of you!" She pleaded suddenly, eyes widening even more (if that were physically possible). "…N-no." I managed to stammer out. "Why should I?" With each word, my confidence grew stronger. It was obvious that this paranoid young adult was definitely not one of great self-esteem, and she didn't seem at the least dangerous…

"…Because, I need you."

"NEED ME!" Shock and dismay raced through me. What on earth did she mean? Was this some sick pervert, luring children off to some secret place where she would later discard their remains? I could feel myself again begin to sweat. Somehow, I managed to continue. "…GET AWAY FROM ME YOU PERVERT!"

"..Wha? Oh geeze!" She moaned, looking around yet again. "…Really now, child. Come on!"

Child? I was fifteen years old now, and I really didn't appreciate being called a mere _child, _especially by some paranoid young freak such as this. "No." I demanded again, stomping my foot. Arms folded across my chest, I turned away. Yes, I was stubborn. And it was this very stubbornness that was going to harm me in the long run.

"…Very well then. I'm sorry, but you leave me no choice." The wavering tones of her quiet, pained voice were again not very threatening, yet as she attempted to make herself sound intimidating, she reached over and grabbed my wrists between her fingers. And off we went. I struggled, screamed, kicked, threw my weight around- everything I had been formerly taught to avoid being kidnapped. Yet, as thin and weak as she was, I was even moreso. Somehow, she managed to keep enough control of me to make it up the winding pathway and into a large, shady building.

As we entered through the doors, I gasped. It was as if the whole world was spinning. The white walls and white chairs, and even the bright white overhead lights above seemed to mesh into one, eternally void scene. And I was about to fade right into it.

"Well then. That wasn't so bad, now was it!" She chuckled nervously, releasing my wrist. Had I been in my right mind, I would have turned around and ran right back out through those double doors. I would have ran right back into the joy of being a teenager. I would have ran right back to freedom. Yet, the white cloud of light swirling around the room was dizzying, and I found myself unable to move. "Welcome to the Furcadian Mental Institution! My name's Jisei… er… _just _Jisei. I hope you will enjoy your stay here and…" she continued, but she was interrupted by my suddenly frantic realization of what was happening. "My stay here! What! I'm not crazy! Why did you bring me here!" It was hard to know if she understood my frantic comments, having uttered them so quickly that even I had jumbled over a few of the words. My hand snapped towards my cellphone. Of course, her reflexes were much more developed than mine. So much more, in fact, that she had snatched the phone away before I had even had a chance to touch it.

"No, no, no! I cannot permit you to have this here! No! You'll call them! They'll find me!" She screeched, again beginning to shake. It was about this time that I began to wonder if perchance she was one of the patients in this asylum. And I was going to say something along those lines too, except for the fact that by the time I had opened my mouth, she had already set my phone on the floor and stomped on it.

Anger filled me. I had finally earned enough money to buy that stupid phone, and she had just crushed it under her oversized boots. "…YOU FOOL!" I surprised myself, screaming at her. "I can't believe you just did that!" Though my fists were clutched, I threw my hands up in exceeding emotion. "That was my prized possession! No, no, wait! My _only _possession! You imbecile!" I took a step forward, ready to beat the living daylights out of her when I finally noticed that she was cowering. Cowering like some abused puppy before me- Me! A mere child! She whined pitifully, and her entire body was shaking and pleading. A hurt look beseeched her eyes, yet no tears fell from them. All about her held an air of extreme disappointment, a strong, thick feeling which stopped my hand in its tracks. This poor, poor creature… I could only wonder what kind of past had brought her to cower like this, even before the powerless hands of a mere _child._

It was then that I resolved to use this power to my advantage.

It was also then that I threw myself entirely into her hands.

"…I'm sorry…" I said softly, placing my pale hand on her shoulder. "It's just… I spent so long earning the money for that phone. It's as if you just broke the past year of my life." At this, she began to loosen up again. And it would seem I had only blinked once before I noticed the incredibly joyous smile painted merrily across her face. And those eyes, those haunting eyes held some mysterious glimmer of satisfaction. Yet, behind that satisfied layer, I caught a hint of some dangerous, sly idea that suddenly formed within the boundaries of her limitless imagination. "…I'm terribly sorry. Really I am…" She sighed, rising to her feet. "Let me make it up to you. Stay with me. I'll give you a job, and even pay you under the table. Then you could just… buy a new phone." She shrugged. "…It shouldn't take too long."

I had missed the entire point to this offer, her well-played sincerity taking me by surprise. I could not again believe that my kidnapper intended to keep me here against my will. And as if reading my thoughts, she responded with "Of course… you are free to leave whenever you choose. Though, I don't see why you'd want too." And with that, she handed me a stack of papers and a pen. "…If you need me, I'll be in the back room."

Had I said something, maybe I wouldn't be in this situation now. Maybe I would now be free to do whatever I wanted, without having to sit in this painfully white room in silence for the rest of my days. Yet, had I said something… I would possible have also lost out on the best friend I could ever have wished to have.


	3. Chapter 3: Jisei's Perspective

Of all the patients that have come and gone through FMI, very few of them have captured my attention so thoroughly as Erik.

If memory serves me right, it happened shortly after Awnes had settled into the place. I admit that I had gone to some extreme measures to get her to stay, but I really wasn't a people person, and all the incoming patients and visitors had set my nerves on the edge. Deciding that I needed some help, and fast, I bravely took to the outdoors, despite my fears of Douley and his henchmen, who lurked behind every corner, just waiting for a chance to take me back to that horrid place of misery that I had grown up in.

I had been sitting alone in my biosphere, as I affectionately called it. In reality, it was a huge garden with trees and a manmade salt-water pond in the back. Yet, the entire thing was surrounded with plexi-glass, which formed a bubble over the top of it. Through such an encasement, I hoped to provide myself with a park all my own, yet made sure that it was impossible for me to be captured by any outside force. Of course, the great contraption also had a built-in weather control device, in which I could set it to be hot, cold, sunny, dreary, windy, snowy, rainy, or any other bit of weather you could imagine at will. Sort of like a giant green house, if you may. I had been relaxing near the lake, staring down into the water when I became suddenly aware of a foreign presence in my midst. Though I had been quite afraid at first, I followed it's dark, looming shadow up until I met the face of my dearest companion, Awnes. Yet, it was not Awnes that I saw. Rather, it was some young teenage creature whose complexion had gone sheet white before my very eyes. Her lip quivered, and her entire frame radiated in some horrible fear beyond all comprehension. "...What is it, dearest?" I questioned, anxiety toying again with my nerves. Yet, for the sake of Awnes, I held myself firm, refusing to give into the paranoia that once again plagued my mind.

"…I… I think you should come see this, miss…" She stuttered out. The fact that my headstrong little employee was now in this unexplainable state of utter fear had me more than a little worked up, I admit, yet I rose to my feet and strutted quickly after her. Whatever fear had raised itself up in me had been all but pushed aside by the sudden urge to protect my newest friend. Perchance it was because she was so afraid that I felt courageous enough to step back into the lobby of my own creating, or maybe it was simply the fact that curiosity was, unfortunately, a quality that I had too much of. Whatever the case, I pushed open the doors to the lobby and raced in, and suddenly, something worse than all the fears I had previously had pulsed through me.

Before me stood none other than Sano. I froze in my tracks, and for an instant, it was just me and Sano, again lost in the world of my childhood. His slender, yet inhumanly muscular structure towered above me, again bringing to me my childhood days. I cowered there, so small and frail compared to the beast before me. Had I not already been pale in complexion, I am sure my skin would have turned three times lighter.

He was clad in a rather complimenting army uniform, splotched with green and black, brown and gray colors which blended perfectly with the outside world, yet were oddly out of place inside this brightly colored tent. Every feature was hidden behind some cloth or another, and the memories crept up around me, reenacting everything I had been through with this man so easily. Tracing, for a moment, the form that I both feared and adored, I watched as the black shifted suddenly and most unexpectedly to a white face so much paler than my own flesh, that I was instantly reminded of a skeleton. My surroundings faded into black as well, and around me suddenly were those all too familiar cage bars, restraining me from freedom. The chains about my neck nearly choked me to death as I edged towards the towering frame, that sickeningly destructive curiosity overtaking me again. "Hello, my child." The frame spoke softly from behind the palate of bone upon his face. So deep and mysterious that I was all but drawn to it. It was as if I were hearing voices from heaven raining down around me, for I could not see his mouth move beneath the white mask. Nor could I see his eyes, which were clothed in a black plexi-glass of their own. "…W-Who are you?" I remember whispering to the creature before me, trembling in some fantastic, passionate energy that I had never felt before. Such longing, such need. "…Jisei, my child! Do you not remember me? I am your father." He spoke sincerely enough, leaning against the cage bars.

I was stunned and utterly amazed. "…No, my daddy is dead." I remembered suddenly. For my whole life, I had been told that my father and mother had hated me and had dropped me off here to suffer such incomparable horror, such torment and abuse that they felt I should die within a weeks labor in such a place as this. The very thought of this had many times sent me into fits of dark depression, so morbidly deep that I only brought myself out of it by teaching myself to loathe those that had created me. I would prove them wrong. I was not weak. And I had survived all these years, hadn't I? And with all the loathing of my so-called parents, it was only natural that I would consider them dead after so long. Yet, now this brute stood before me, in my environment, speaking so sweetly to me that for a minute, I doubted my stance. Yet, when the same strong, magnificent brute reached through my cage bars and patted my with the gentleness one would show a newborn kitten, and moaned low in his chest, it was hard to believe that he was simply playing a trick on me. "My dear! How could they treat you like this!" He suddenly grew enraged, slamming a fist on the metallic floor beneath me. "I never would have left you here when I went off to war had I known… I'm so sorry! I don't know how you could possibly forgive me, child!"

Yet forgiveness came quite easily. This man had never beat me. This man had never tormented me with words and actions! In fact, I already believed, just by the hypnotizing gentle kindness in his words, that this man was indeed my father. I suddenly believed that I had been lied too for so long by my master and his dear friends. Suddenly, this man who had shown me kindness which I had never known… he was the center of my universe. My every joy. Had he not been my father, I may even have confessed to have some girlish crush on him. All the emptiness I had felt for so long, all the lonely, weary nights… they all seemed worth it now as my heart overflowed with love which poured out as the door to my cage swung open and Sano lifted me into arms. There we stood for some time, my tiny frame snuggled close to his thick, muscular torso. I could do nothing but cry in absolute joy, my arms clasped about his neck as he scratched my head softly. The last thing I remember hearing before falling off into the most peaceful sleep I had ever known was "…I will get you out of here. I promise."

I awoke the next morning back inside my cage. Frantically, I looked around. Sano was nowhere to be seen. I could nearly have wept! I had only just met the loving father I had never had a few hours ago, and he had been ripped from my arms so suddenly. As I cowered in the corner of my cage, pouting, shaking, and throwing such a pity party that one may think I would've flung myself down a cliff right then had I had the chance, my father strode in. "Jisei, dear?" He whispered softly, approaching the cage. My entire body went limp again, the deep voice lulling an inner peace into me that I had never before felt. "…We have a problem." Suddenly, I tensed up again. A problem? Was I to stay here for even longer? Was I going to be surrendered to the permanent care of the ring-keeper and his wife? I could not bear to think of such a thing! I leaned across the bars as far as my chains would permit me, groping for my father's comfort.

"Ji, listen…" was all I received. Yet, I had been beat into submission so many times before, that obedience was almost a spell cast upon my life. I fell limp to my rear before him, ears perked attentively. "…I don't have enough money to buy you from these morons." He tilted his head in the direction of the ring master's tent, where he was no doubt enjoying some expensive wine, or enjoying the comforts of some extravagant luxury I could only dream of. "…I need you to do me a favor. If you have any hope of getting out of here, I need you to get me some money. No matter how you do it. Get me some money." Wait! Was he asking me to steal? Not only was that a punishable crime here at the circus, but how I was supposed to do such a thing when I couldn't even get out of my cage! I mentioned these things to Sano, who dismissed it before I had even finished speaking. "You have claws, don't you? Use them!" He screeched, pointing towards the lock. At first, I didn't quite understand what he meant. And then he showed me. He taught me to pick the lock using my very own claws. What a nifty trick! Had I learned that years ago, I would have been at least had a hand up on my master. Again, I was drawn deeper into the fact that this creature, frightening and deceptive as he was, was my father.

The weeks passed, and I slowly increased in my newly learned skills. I could pick a lock, any lock, in a matter of seconds. I could also pick the very wallet from a rich mans pocket without so much as leaving a paw print in the dirt behind me. A little thief I had become, and all for my father. My father, who promised to buy my freedom with whatever I could steal. My father, who had left me here in hopes of me living a happy life while he ran off to war.

My father, who in all truth, had never seen me before in his life.

And this, the very same man who betrayed me, day in and day out. He whispered my secrets, took what I stole and gave it to Douley without me so much as realizing what was happening behind the scenes. The same man who stood by and watched as the whip came down, harder and harsher every night, biting at my flesh with a crack more cold than I had ever felt or heard before. The very same man who came to me each night, scolding me for messing up, and then demanding my forgiveness. And with a voice so pure and commanding as that, I forgave and forgot each time. And each time he begged for my forgiveness, I fell in love with him all over again. I had been brainwashed.

Brainwashed by Sano, my own father.

Therefore, when I looked up from my cage bars to find Awnes standing there, staring at me with her curious eyes, I nearly leapt out of my skin. "Umn, Ji?" She whispered, poking me in the shoulder. Yet, the long break in conversation, the silence that had come only moments before- both had sent me into such a state of panicked shock, that the very voice brought me back to reality.

"Hmn?" I replied, suddenly, gazing in her general direction. Again, I met her pale face, which had begun to gain it's color again as she pointed a shaking finger in the direction of Sano. Yet, when I looked again, it was not Sano who stood before me, but some living corpse clad in black. Yet another double take revealed that he wasn't that either, but was rather human- flesh and blood, a living and breathing being who was seeking my help. At his side stood another man, who stared at me with an indifference I had never before seen in my life. "Oh. Well, umm, can I help you?" I finally offered, trying my best to regain some composure over myself.

It was understood that this masked man before me was called Erik. At this point, I hadn't heard his voice. In fact, I hadn't even seen a glimmer of life shining within his eyes. Then again, I couldn't even _see _his eyes. Again, I was reminded of a corpse, no, a zombie. Some living dead from generations past. It was evident from that very moment that this man was not in the least bit sane. It was apparent that he was past the point of needing mental help by so many years that had I been a more experienced doctor, I would've turned him away as impossible before the problems even started. Yet I was young and naïve, and this was the first patient I had even taken the time to meet thus far. Besides, the feelings which this same patient brought upon me were intimidating, yet full of bliss and harmony all at the same time. Again, I felt the strong embrace of my father, his gentle, kind words. Just looking at the way this man carried himself, I could feel all of the intimidation, trust, and love I had felt so many years before. Again, I was bubbling over with such strong emotions that I think, now, that had I been taking drugs, I would not have felt this high. Again, I was being hypnotized. Not only by this new patient, who brought back so many memories- both good and bad- but rather, I was being hypnotized by Sano's deceptive acts over and over again.

And that was my first mistake.


	4. Chapter 4: Jamais' Perspective

Chapter 4- Jamais

It was late in the summer by the time I talked myself into going back to visit Jisei. I hadn't been to the asylum in quite some time, I must admit, and with every day that passed, I felt the pangs of guilt gnawing away on my already blackened soul. I have no clue why I felt so guilty about leaving her alone in that maddening place. She seemed to enjoy the quiet solitude of her own creation over that of the clubs and the bustling crowds of the city. And her strange infatuation with her patients had left me all alone while I was there. Sometimes, she would run off to 'study' her patients, and would stay up there for hours and hours on end doing who knows what, while I sat below deck, swallowed up in a swarm of painfully white walls and lights which often times caused my vision to blur. I knew that if I stayed there, all alone, for much longer, I was going to need to be committed myself.

Yet, there was no mentioning that to Jisei. I remember once I approached to speak with her about it. Of course, I've always been a bit hostile, easily angered- especially by friends. It was this temper than so often got me in trouble. This time was no different. I remember having been asked to watch the desk one morning while Ji went off to spend some quality time with her patients. Yet, as the hours rolled by and not a soul came through the glass doors of the hospital, my mind began to reel. Boredom overtook my every motive, and with boredom came the aggressive, tempermental side of me that was often unleashed at the worst possible times. With a sudden surge of withheld energy, I flung the papers from the desk and stormed off towards the rows upon rows of padded cells. I was going to tell Jisei how I felt, once and for all.

"Jisei! We need to talk!" I screamed as I approached her from the distance. She made no motion to listen. In fact, she did not even acknowledge my presence. Slowly, the anger within me swelled, soaking up each second I was ignored, throwing me into a fit of rage that was going to be my ruin some day. "Jisei! Do you hear me? Turn around and look at me! Jisei!" By now, I was physically shaking her back and forth, all my rage thrown into each forceful jerk I gave. Finally, I got the answer I had been waiting for. Timid, innocent little Jisei. Sometimes, she could make me sick. And other times… "W-What's wrong, Jam?" she questioned, her form visibly shaking. "First of all, I don't appreciate being ignored." I informed her, leaning up against a wall.

"I… I'm sorry, Jam. I didn't hear you."

"Yeah, I'm sick of your excuses. Same way I'm sick of being left down there by myself while you're up here _bonding _with your dearest patients!" I could taste the cold sarcasm as it dripped from my lips. Really, I never meant to be so harsh. Yet Ji seemed so indifferent to it. It was almost as if she could care less. Sometimes, I wondered if she cared at all.

"I'm sorry Jamais, but it's my job!" she responded in the quiet, submissive voice which I had had such a craving to hear only moments before. Suddenly, I no longer longed for the very inferiority she seemed to present to me so naturally, and rather it made me sick to my stomach. This was my friend! How could she act like this! No, how could _I_ act like this! As if my own sudden convictions weren't enough, her gaze fell on me with all the honesty and innocence of a monk, and again she spoke, timidly. "…I'm a bad friend. I'm sorry. Work shouldn't come between me and my friends. I'll…. I'll try harder." She struggled out, turning back to her patient and tapping the glass softly. With that, she sighed and trotted off to her office.

Again, that stomach-churning sickness overtook me. The only thing that kept me from hurling right there on the spot was the fact that my supressed anger was beginning to fizz again. I was so angry. Angry at the world, angry at this… this prison, and most of all, angry at myself. To this day, I don't know why I took it all out on my dear friend, my young companion. Perchance it was her purity that I loved. Maybe it was her innocence that I longed for. Who knows, maybe it was just for the simple fact that she owed me so much, yet returned it only with the respect a daughter would give to her mother. Whatever it was, it brought out the monster in me every time.

It reminded me of all those years ago, those few remnants of the shady past I could never bring myself to reveal to her.

The first time I ever saw Jisei, she was a pitiful young circus slave. Each day, I would watch from the shadows as she worked and toiled behind the scenes, shoveling and lifting, washing and scrubbing. Each day, I watched as more and more scars appeared on her flesh, as the sweat raced down her face in the merciless summer sun. Each night, I followed her as she escaped from her cage and ran about, collecting whatever food or valuables she could scrounge up within an hours time.

There were quite a few things I had done in the shadows. For instance, while Jisei was out garbage picking during the night hours, I would often distract Douley and his henchmen when they came too close. How they hated cats. I was her guardian angel, and yet, she didn't know of my existence.

One day, I had been watching her from behind a tent when that fat slob Douley appeared. He really had a disliking for cats for some reason, especially I, who had prevented many a whipping for my young charge. "YOU!" He screamed one afternoon in his drunken voice. I looked up just in time to watch his fat, stubby leg come down upon my tail. With a yowl, I shot up his leg, digging my claws into his flesh and spitting unmercifully in every direction. He would feel my fury. My sudden attack only egged him on, however, as he began to scream profanities that no child's ears should ever hear. Jisei looked up just in time to watch as he shook me from his leg and then reached for a stick.

Nonetheless, I closed my eyes, ready to feel the pains of a death that I knew was inevitable. I awaited the skull-smashing blow from whatever large branch Douley would retrieve from behind some crate or barrel. Then, a miraculous thing happened. I felt myself fly through the air as if carried by some heavenly being who had rushed in to save me at exactly that moment.

And then I hear her yelp. Her single cry which sent so much pain reverberating through my flesh and soul. Immediately, I knew what had happened. Jisei had darted in to save me. She didn't fear the beating she was to get, either from the stick nor the metal of the whip which was sure to follow. She had paid a debt she hadn't even owed, to save me- whom she had never met- from the gruesome death which would have befallen me had she not been working outdoors that afternoon. Yet, had she not been working, I wouldn't have been in this predicament to begin with.

I was afraid to open my eyes. When I finally did, it was just in time to see Jisei lying face first in a puddle of her own blood, which flowed like a river from her mouth. She shuddered in some unexplainable pain that belonged to me. But she did not cry. Not once did she whimper. Not once did she even waver in her will to survive. Already, that heart of gold had begun to show through. She had looked death in the eyes to save some undeserving creature she had never even seen. I knew within myself that, had I been in her place, I would not have done the same thing.

And it was this heart of gold that I both loved and hated. It was this self-sacrificing love that filled me with woe and remorse, yet gave me hope and faith at the same time.

Lifting my gaze to the one who had caused such torment and pain to my dear friend, all that rage bubbled up and over as I saw what he was doing. With a smirk upon his face, I watched him lift the metal-tipped whip into the air, aiming it at the poor, defenseless sack of blood and bones lying in my place.

I would not let that happen. I could not let that happen.

In some burst of courage and sacrifice which I had never believed could come from such a tortured soul as me, I raced towards Douley, clutching the whip in my mouth. Some more profanities echoed from his mouth, and he again lifted the whip, now swinging it around and around and around. The blood rushed to my skull, and I was aware of the room going black, but just a simple gaze at my hero gave my the strength to go on. I went on until Douley tired out. Even for an obese, lazy man, he had quite an endurance level. Even just thinking about that time period, swinging about in the air like that, makes me dizzy. But I had returned the favor again. Again, we were even.

Yet somehow, I just couldn't bring myself to believe that.

Jisei, though not the brightest crayon in the box, has always had the will to carry on. What it is that gives her that strength I may never know. Nonetheless, she recovered from the blow in a remarkable period of time, and her body began to heal itself instantly. Though I knew the gash upon her face would not scar and would eventually heal, I knew the event had scarred us both for life.

And when she finally came too, she gave me the name "Ankh" for the blood-colored marking on my shoulder. She pledged her friendship and loyalty to me that day, saying she owed me her every life and limb. I took her in as my friend. I vowed to follow at her side, to watch over her like a hawk. Yet she claimed me as an adoptive mother. She began to follow my every word. I was her dominant, despite my every action to prove otherwise, and her will power was enough to force me to toss aside all ideas of changing her mind. As much I hated myself for it, from that day forward, I allowed the pride that her flattering words instilled upon my soul to fill me with an almost vain belief that she needed me. With her words, I began to believe that without my presence, she would die. In a way, she brain washed me into being superior. The very fact that she obeyed me from that day forward was enough to etch power into my mind, and it was enough to cause me to grow jealous of all those she would grow close too in the years to come. The idea that I was needed was enough to send my soul into a dark spiral of infinite lust for her to need me there with her, for her to need me to survive.

Yet now, here in the adult world where we were, she was my boss, my dominant. It was finally all as it should have been. She should've controlled me. She should have ruled over me with an iron fist. I should have groveled and obeyed, for she had saved my life so long ago, and I owed it to her. Yet, still, she was so incredibly lenient. Still, she gave into my every will, my every demand.

What was worse was the fact that she didn't know that I was her beloved Ankh. After a few years of circus life, she had begun to grow away from me, and began to grow closer to those who promised her a life of freedom. She began to leave me to seek private council with those who had the capabilities to give her life. I couldn't stand it. I resented it. I needed to be needed.

So I had left.

And now, she would never know.

Perchance that's why I hated her so. Her indifference, when she owed me the world. When I owed her my life. And not being able to tell her so.

That heart of gold.


	5. Chapter 5: Jisei's Perspective

It was possibly the crowning point of my life, that day. The asylum was finished! My creation, which I had worked on for so very long, was finally ready. The grand opening was at hand! As I stood outside the doors, with Tuku at my side, I could feel the anticipation welling up within me. An excitement I had never known, a happiness which came only once in a lifetime. Those were the feelings that raced through me as I waited and watched. The crowd began to form around the doors, swelling and overflowing down the long path from the main street to my beloved building.

And at the very moment the ribbon was cut, my fate was sealed. I was now the owner of some grand creation, some building whose presence was enough to calm the very nerves of many a creature. For the sake of the nerves of these very ones before me, I was putting myself on the line, placing my sanity in the hands of my home- this large, white building, which would soon be filled with many different stories and walks of life.

Putting my very life in the hands of those poor souls who desperately needed help…

As the hours ebbed on, however, people began to draw away from my creation. Fewer and fewer people came in, until eventually, nobody- not even Tuku- remained at my side. I was alone in a world I had created, a world I believed would make such a difference. The climax of my life. My greatest achievement. I'd bet you anything that master and those slave drivers at the circus had never thought such a 'snivelling cur' as I could ever accomplish such a task. But I had, and I had fulfilled it before I had even hit twenty years of age.

Yet, now as I sat here, lost in the vastness of the lobby, I realized just how maddening an institute this really was; the white walls looming about me, with the shadows cast from overhead lights dancing about the walls, the silence so overwhelming that one counted on the ticking of the clock for reassurance that all was not lost. The very thought came to me as a surprise. Yet, I welcomed it with open arms. For this was my sanctuary, my sanctum. I was safe here from staring eyes and laughing drunkards. Here, I was safe. Where was here? A building I had created from the depths of my own imagination.

And I was proud of myself for the first time in my life.

It was pretty late when Jamais arrived. I hadn't been expecting her. Ever. In fact, I had nearly forgotten her, really, and hadn't planned on seeing her again in this lifetime. Only one act of kindness had she ever shown me- and even that act of kindness led to unimaginable pain. It was the only memory I ever had of her, though this new turn events would prove to create many, many more.

I had been asked to steal. I had to steal for Sano, my beloved father. He couldn't very well earn the money to buy my freedom alone. So, Father had taught me a trick which Master would have greatly approved of should the results have been beneficial to him. I became a thief, a pick-pocket. During the busy days, as crowds lined up at tents to see my more-fortunate peers at work, I would sneak by without a sound and grab whatever I could from the unsuspecting guests. I kept not a penny. In fact, every single cent I made was deposited very neatly into a hollow tree just within the circus grounds. Every night, Sano would retrieve my findings. Eventually, he hoped to have enough to free me.

I wasn't always going to be so lucky, however, and tragedy was sure to strike soon. And it couldn't have picked a better night to happen.

It was late at night. So late that the tent in which I lived was pitch black. Blacker than black, I should say. The gray clouds gathered in the night air, joining together into a massive cloud which turned the sky into naught but a sea of empty, vast despair. The clouds spoke to one each other in profanities so horrible, that one such as myself could only hear the crashes, which were held within their syllables. Rain poured from the heavens in large drops; drops which splashed violently into the dirt of the grounds and transformed it magically into a giant mud-pie of sorts. Lightning was all I had to light my way.

Naturally, I wouldn't have been out on a night like this. I would rather be curled up in the back of my cage, huddling my body into a tiny ball as to protect myself from the chilling breeze, which raced through the hollow old trees. However, when the lightning crashed just a tad too close too my tent, a fear much like that I had felt when I first felt the whip against my back came upon me. Without a single second of hesitation, I thrust my claw into the keyhole and listened for the valuable click of iron. The door swung open, and I was again free.

Where to go, I did not know. All I knew was I had to find someplace safe, safer than the iron bars of my cage, the cold, dark tent which scared me so on such stormy nights. The water drenched my fur as I ran about, searching, looking. And that's when I saw it. A shimmering glitter of golden coins, piled one atop the other on a table just inside a nearby tent. Had I taken the time to think about what that tent meant for me, maybe I wouldn't have done what I did. Yet, soundlessly, I pulled myself into it, climbing carefully up into an old wooden chair, and, one by one, piling the coins into my shirt and pants.

The deep, heavy breathing of my master didn't strike an ounce of fear in my tiny frame. I was already numb from my experience with the lightning just seconds before. Yet, a new sense of hope filled me, flowing over inside of me as I looked at those gold coins. There was surely enough to buy my freedom now. Pawing my way to the tree, I dropped the coins, again, one by one, into it's hollow center, and then, satisfied with such a well-committed crime, hobbled back to my cage. That night, I had the most peaceful sleep I had had since I first met Sano. Even the howling wind outside couldn't steal that overwhelming peace from me.

The next morning, I woke to a hand around my neck, lifting me and shaking me in midair. It was Master, a scowl on his face so hateful, so angry that I, for a moment, mistook him for a stranger. His long, brown hair was dripping wet, falling in darkened locks about his smooth, clear face. His eyes, however, held no shine. They lacked both the drunken film of usual-which showed me for the first time, a dreary gray color beneath- as well as the sneering, sly presence which always hid beneath them. No, instead, his eyes seemed hateful and dark, looming with absolute loathing. And his voice, deepened and hoarse due to strain, threw forth profanities worse than I had ever been able to bear. "YOU CANNIVING LITTLE BRAT!" He suddenly growled, teeth clenched together so hard that I thought his bones should've broken. "YOU SNIVELLING LITTLE THIEF!" I froze. Thief? Uh-oh. "After all I've done for you, this is how you repay me?" With that, he shook a bag full of gold coins in front of my face before sending me skidding across the mud and into a wooden support beam.

Master began to pace, back and forth, back and forth. His thick snakeskin boots left deep imprints in the mud, each pace creating a bigger gash in the earth. Finally, after turning his knuckles white from pressure, he relaxed. A change came over him quite suddenly. A smirk even came across his face. "…Very well then, you little coward…" he laughed, kicking me in the side with one pointed boot, "…You want to steal? Go steal from somebody else. You aren't welcome here anymore." And with those words, I was thrown out, face first, into the cold, gloomy daylight.

I didn't turn back. This was my opportunity for change! I could make something of myself, still! I was free! Free from the whip and the torment of such beings. Free from such prejudice and pride. I was on my own.

Freedom felt so good.

Yet, that freedom would fall away fast. Soon after wandering from the lands I knew so well, a thick, musty fog set in. It wasn't just one of those light fogs that sprinkle the land with dew. No. It was a warm, dense fog, which nearly pulled the air from my lungs as I walked through it. Not to mention extremely humid, causing every matted clump of fur on my body to stick to my scarred skin and grow heavy with sweat.

Near high noon had to have been the worst, though, as the heat swelled up around me and left me thirsty and tired. Though the fog cleared up, I had been walking non-stop for quite some time now. My muscles hurt. My stomach snarled. I practically had to drag myself across the rocky earth beneath, forcing my already aching muscles on.

Deep within me, I knew I needed to find shelter from the heat soon. Time and temperature were my enemies at that point. And it seemed I had no friends.

Yet, just as I began to loose hope, just as I began to believe that this was the end of me- I saw in the distance a pool of water. So clear and crisp it seemed, so cold and refreshing. Pushing all thoughts of doom and gloom aside, I took off in the direction of that beautiful pond. I no longer felt the pain in my arms and legs; I no longer felt the pangs of hunger and thirst, which tore through my body like a knife through air; rather, all I felt was overwhelming joy and hope. I was going to make it! I was going to survive!

All on my own!

But my hopes and dreams shattered just as quickly as they had formed. It seemed that no matter how fast and far I ran, the pond just kept growing further and further away. All those doubts and fears came crawling back, and I accepted them with an open mind. For a few moments, I battled within myself; the hope, the fears, the doubts, and the will to continue. The thoughts clashed and a struggle pursued.

And then I fell face down in the dirt.

An overwhelming tiredness had come so suddenly over me like a warm blanket on a cold day. I began, suddenly, to feel the ache of my muscles. Well, I felt their ache until they went numb. That's when I had tripped and fell face down on the earth. I lay there, motionless, my breathing heavy; but I could not feel the hard earth. I could not feel the tingling in my legs and feet, the pangs of hurt within my bosom. I was floating in space. There was no gravity. There was no time, no weight, no feeling. It was just a vast, empty expanse in which I floated. So dark. So empty. So alone.

Thus were my feelings as I fell into an uncontrollable slumber, a deep black void which could have been the very boundaries of time and space.

I awoke late that night to somebody shaking me hard, pressing up against my shoulder and shoving violently over and over and over. "Wake up! Hey, kid! GET UP!" Said a voice, a voice which seemed so familiar… and yet so different. I looked up and nearly ran away in terror at what I saw. There, standing before me stood a three-headed beast with 6 arms and legs! It was moving in dizzying patterns, around and around my head. But within a few moments, the picture before me grew less fuzzy and the image finally became that which it truly was. Before me stood one whom I would later come to consider a dear friend. Her deep gray fur almost blended in with the shadows of the night, but was brought out against the dark blue-black background of the sky by the neon red highlights in her black hair. She wore rather normal clothing, much as I had seen some teenage tourists wear during my time in the circus. I wish I had clothes like that to wear. Rather, I had grown into my red and yellow gypsy pants, and had been given a rather interesting top. Instead of the normal, baggy yellow and red clown outfits I had been used too, I now had a rather normal-looking top, save for the fact that it was little more than rags. It had been, in fact, stitched together for me by the lion-tamer, who had taken pieces of some of her old clothes and put them together into a shirt that, for once, fit me perfectly. The outfit, of course, was still quite ugly- moreso, now, as it didn't match. My pants remained yellow and red, baggy and somewhat transparent, but the top was a mixture of earthy browns and pale whites. Many would say it still matched, however, as both were covered on every thread by mud and dirt and stains of every sort. On the bright side, at least it no longer fell down at random intervals throughout the day.

I reckon I must have been about 12 when I first met her. I was still too young to take care of myself, but old enough to do most everything else. That would have made Jamais about 16. Truth of the matter is, she wasn't quite an adult yet herself.

"Hey, kid! Come on, you have to get up now!" She moaned, tugging at the threads of my shirt. No matter how much she urged, however, I couldn't bring myself to get up just yet. Rather, I lay there, taking in my surroundings. Where was I, and how had I gotten here? For the first few moments, I didn't exactly remember the events of that morning. I had expected myself to be locked up tight in a cage for the night, to wake up in a yellow and white tent with a large wooden board above me. Yet, here I was in the middle of nowhere, staring up at some mysterious stranger who seemed to have come from the sky herself. "I SAID GET UP!" She screeched, clenching her teeth together in frustration. I could almost sense the anger in her eyes behind those black sunglasses. All at once, the knowledge I had been searching for raced back and I found myself standing upon two paws again, dusting myself off.

"Y'know, you're lucky I'm in a good mood tonight. I don't normally stop and pick up dirty, disgusting children from the mud." She ranted on. "Now, who are you and where are you…" She paused suddenly, an expression of sheer horror coming over her face. As if she had just seen some sort of ghost, I watched her lower her glasses to gaze at me with big, silver eyes. Yet, a soft gasp was all the noise she made. After a few moments of this rather awkward position, she replaced her glasses and grabbed my hand. "Come on Jisei, I think we should get you back to that stupid circus." There was a pain in her voice which I had not expected, a strain, a resistance. And then it hit me.

She had said my name.

"H-How do you know my name?" I said, struggling against her for a moment to keep her from dragging me off. It was a useless cause, however, for she just dragged me on behind her by the wrist. "…Uh… well, let's just say a lot of people visit the circus, alright?" That was her answer. Though I persisted, trying to drag more information for her cold, icy grasp, it was useless. I could not penetrating her into offering anything she didn't want to answer.

So many questions formed in my mind. I wanted to know why she was taking me back. I wanted to know how she had really learned my name. I hadn't yet had to perform in front of the multitudes. In fact, very few visitors had seen me. Who, then, was this? And how did she know my name? Yet, those questions were not to be asked. They were a boundary I could not let myself cross just yet. This stranger who seemed so familiar…

"Have we met?" I finally asked, unable to control it anymore. I was sure I'd regret the question. She stopped for a moment, offering only an icy glare- which I could feel, even from behind those glasses of hers- and allowed her mouth to twist into a rather obnoxious grimace. "Ha. Maybe in a past life, sweety." She spoke, sarcasm dripping from her every word. "This life has been dull, but up until now, I've never stooped so low as to talk to a child such as yourself." The words stung, but she had said she was in a good mood.

I think, then, that I had to have been more grateful than hurt.

"Oh."

"Y'know what, I don't even know why I'm bothering to take you back to that miserable place…"

"Then why are you?" I interrupted.

"…Life outside, hun. It's much worse." Was her reply.

"I don't think it is."

"Then you've never lived it!"

"….No, I guess I haven't."

"Then shut up about it, will ya? You'll be safer there anyways! What else do you want me to do? I mean, I could just leave your worthless carcass out here to rot away and feed the vultures, if you'd rather. You didn't look as if you were doing too well on your own!"

"No! Please!" I cringed at that morbid thought, clinging to her arm.

We walked the rest of the way in silence. It took us only a few hours to get back to those familiar tents; the same tents which brought joy to most other children, but brought only a sense of loathing to me. Yet, we never slowed down until we were standing in front of the tent belonging to Master. My companion, however, wasted no time in offering a sharp knock on the hollowed-out door belonging to said tent.

"…What's your name, anyways?" I asked, while I waited for my master to answer. The answer was brief. She hadn't even cast a glance at me (which may have been a good thing, in such a case) before throwing out a rather empty, indifferent response. "…Eh, not that it matters but… Jamais. My name is Jamais."

At that exact instant, the door flung open. In it's place stood the Ringmaster, my master. He was in his usual garb- consisting of a red button-up jacket with black buttons and cuffs, black pants, a black undershirt, and black gloves. His red and black top-hat laid upside-down on a table in the corner of his room, and as he addressed Jam, he peeled away his gloves. "Well, what do we have here?" He allowed his smug, sly grin to work it's ways over his handsome features, his eyes scanning Jamais' frame for a minute. I had always had a feeling that Master was a decent person deep inside, under that hateful exterior he showed me… but now I doubted it. That hungry look in his eyes revealed more to me than it should have. "Come to entertain me after a hard day's work?" He smacked the leather whip in his left hand against the palm of his now-ungloved right hand before setting it down upon a barrel nearby. At this point, he leaned against the door and folded his arms together, putting on quite a playful grin.

I was still young. I had no clue what was happening. All I knew was that Master was looking to bring out the worst in a good situation.

Jamais looked surprised, disgusted. "What kind of girl do you think I am, you filthy hog!" she screeched. I had to hold back a chuckle. Master's brow furrowed at such a response. I had never seen anybody respond to anything Master said like that. Normally, they smiled sweetly and then closed the door behind them. Now, however, he stood upright, back straightened. He was a tall man, though not nearly so tall as Sano, and standing at such a height could make most girls cringe. Jam, however, merely stood her ground, leaning forward on the door to a point where she met him nose to nose. "I brought your dog back." She muttered, nodding her head in my direction. With that, she stormed away, but not before throwing her arms up. Such a motion moved her sleeves from her thin shoulders and for an instant, I could almost make out an odd, crimson shape beneath. An ankh.

No. Couldn't have been. It was just my mind at play again.

I watched her form fade into nothing, dissipating into the distance, becoming like a star, then an ant, and then nothing. Master must have felt the same grudging disappointment I felt, for he said nothing for a moment, but stared on with gray eyes after her. Once she had vanished, however, he scratched his head and approached me, becoming the hardened villain I knew before. "…So, you came back did you?" He laughed. "Figured you would. Can't survive out on your own just yet, now can ya?" He leaned over, staring me straight in the eyes. One finger caressed the spot just above my nose, and I pulled back visibly.

"Very well then, if you've nowhere else to go, I guess I can let you stay here." He leaned up against the tent again, playing with a fingernail as he eyed me warily. "…For a price."

All I could do was agree. What other choice did I have? I could always go feed myself to the vultures, I guess. But somehow, this seemed a much better idea. No matter how gruesome it turned out to be, it had to be a better fate than that.

But my mind, though I responded and listened, was elsewhere. Who was this 'Jamais', truly, and why did she seem so familiar? Why did she stop to help me when she clearly hated children? And why had she left me here?

That was the last time I had ever planned on seeing her. After a few weeks, I grew much to busy to think about her. She eventually vanished fully from my mind. And it was only when I was safe and secure, alone in my asylum did this memory come flooding back.

How ironic it is, how life works out sometimes. For as I thought of her, so she appeared, sneaking up behind me and nearly giving me a heart attack. "BOO!" She had screamed, tapping me on the shoulder. I turned to face a slightly older, yet much different her than I remember, her smile wide and bright. Her hair and clothes no longer consisted of blacks and reds, but now held a variety of colors- yellow, blue, purple, orange, etc. For a moment, I didn't recognize her. Perchance, I thought to myself, this was actually my first patient? The realization struck me only when I turned to grab some of those fresh new application forms I had arranged so neatly beneath the desk.

"Jamais?" I asked, eyeing her for a moment. "Oh my… Jam? Is that really you?" She smiled, reaching out and pulling me into a rather awkward embrace. Awkward, yes, but nothing could have seemed more proper for that moment than an embrace.

An embrace between two old friends.


End file.
